The condition is life, but the doctor reminds me of suicide
In the reception, I see the sun is shining, stuck in the window with me.

Before dwelling in the waiting room
I highlighted to my manager that work is just as disorganised as my mind. Writing provides uncertain clarity, and "Despite your unchanging visions, while succeeding habits. You couldn't write a poem?"

No one is as productive as me,  being sick, wondering when I will clean my ****-stained toilet, wondering how long I have been wearing ****-stained underwear.  It takes years of practice, tolerance to get where I am now

Symptoms are managed by isolation and drinking. Isolation and drinking lasts longer than the working week of nine to five. Today I go to half-pay, which means half-price food, as the holes in my shoes grow. The cheap drink can make me more robust than most men. I can last long into the night

And what stopping me from getting out of control is a broken light bulb, until witnessing the sunshine again.

On the first date, she told me that her grandmother died, "it was the operation, the operation that killed her"
There are things that people don't acknowledge anymore, see, think or feel.

I thought about why people have grandmothers and ordinarily
needed to talk about them.

Walking along the river reminded me
It rained the night before
That was just important as her memory  
During our limited time together
I was already bored.

Each woman is self-improvement for the next

I remember walking along the same river
holding hands with another girl
and again, almost remember another
walking past her x boyfriend  without saying a word
telling me "a ****”
People don't apologise anymore.

I didn't want to understand her history, cared for her favourite films.
You could tell that she didn't like reading
or
would understand how I loss my t.v
as
Her individuality had gone

On our first date
All I wanted to know is what she smelt like
Then taste between her legs
Within  this moment is nothing
I can feel
But the sky falls, again and again, is an important fact

I often open the curtains to let the heat in
But there's no sunshine today
While sitting in a chair that's versed and infirm
Blistered brown
Bitter and dependable as the surrounding solid bricks.

Was it a daydream of fortune with laughter on my face
When a breeze, shimmed with animals within a contorted trees
In front of a typhoon of blue.

An open curtain can warm the room
As little ordinary shade of disturbance's approach
Providing unspeakable gloom
While I return to bed for an extra day.

I also can open the curtains to let people in
To forget the wasteland of silence
If even it's a peek and to avoid the reflection of my now grey imagination.

A vivid blub springs ordinary in the past
In the morning, even if there's no sunshine
There is a glint of a bright glow.

A long conversation.
You decided  to reduced medication and focus on your  emotions
While thinking throughout the night and wondering?
And honestly, you still don’t have any idea.

I.
Recognised that I self-isolate to manage symptoms or when I have questions?
I feel guilt for the people that I have let down, but I met a man today with allegations of guinea pigs and court dates for molesting his sister.

Then.
Watched my managers head, explode as they never said “hello, Hi, or my name” in any email “its “so ******* rude” as she “makes me want to ******* leave, I dislike her and can't work with her”!
“SO, SO, So MUCH I'm thinking of quitting, because of HER”.
And I switched off and thought about my xgirlfriend- - Hope you're well?

With.
A receptionist I tell her about a date tomorrow
I told her my reservations, regarding meeting some new “that she had two children” and “It' was hard to get over one boy”-

“Dave you have not met her yet, don’t think about the end”
I smile and it's true.

People like me, are not needed.
Alone in a dark room, watering flowers on the window sill.
Or is it important, while looking out the window, the rain reminds you to ****?  

What we need are jobs, the same old jobs, labelled differently and act as their new jobs.
What we need are holiday’s in Spain with beautiful women
Or holiday's in Munich with misaligned boys.
However, there is more love being alone with the second hand of the clock, slicing moments of established solitude.

We need more ambition, from ambitious men.
That never dispel that our greatest moment in life is waking up at 8 am and returning home incomplete, endlessly.

We need systems that define your self worth with a picture of thumb or smiling faces that does not resemble your own. We need to be self severing and perpetuating.

What we can't have is fewer freckles, smiles or the colour red.

We need to replace our feelings, make more children to progress our mistakes
What we need is every day to be the same but not to feel the same.
Never to have been made cheapen, feel cheated or a rollover in a cold room.
People like me, are not needed.

I can smell her now, sedentary
Face uncomplete,
while sitting in the middle of the bed, wearing on pants.

The best parts are sometimes our faults
"I never lied to you as everything I felt and said to you was true at the time. I did not lie or act out to get attention. I did not say things intentionally to hurt or trick you. I, only ever responded to, you. In my way".

Again she says after many months and just like yesterday. Then tells me" I feel time and life are too precious to stay in connection with others who have massively different energies, as it hurts us both, in the end", While she's pulling at her hair while looking elsewhere.

My girlfriend jump into and out of bed, more than others, which often she mistakes for love
“We didn't find each other in this life, so that we could change one another feel like you resent me”.

It tiresome getting out of the bed but is being apart
And alone wishing the bedroom light stays off

I was sixteen, and my girlfriend was maybe five years older me. Living at my parents, theirs a phone near the bottom of their stairs, for emergencies and intentionally, placed so everyone could hear.

The night before, very quietly, "We need to talk, in-person". We paused in the conversation, in the middle of the bridge on the estate. Me on the way to school and were she dressed a red for work after being out all night.

We need talk in person "I don't know how to tell you this, you gave my chlamydia", "you better get checked, and the doctor said you had gave it to me".

Unwashed was ordinary and second-hand clothes. I avoided "I'm ok; my mum sorted it". Her mother bought smells of the food coming upstairs, with cold *** cheeks on the bathroom floor, with the door locked. My girlfriend, next lying down next to me, only kissed "I think my mum’s coming" repeatedly until the food was ready.  

Very quietly, I nodded my head, held down by books weighing heavy on my shoulders. Crossing the bridge, the wind blew in my face while cars piled on and passed bye.
Leaning toward, I then sat at the back of the class; friends were gurning on ecstasy. If you showed promise, you gained access to the library for free, especially during lunch.
I stay with the boys that stole the money, but thinking of the library, I thought I didn't know chlamydia (a noun) was or why or "no more kissing".

The next day, alone waking to school while the cars continued below, I then joined the back of the class. My first girlfriend, I had given her an STI ?? naively as a ******.

I lost my self in that room at sixteen. I'm now surrounded by different books that have weighed on me during many years. She was never my first girlfriend, but the first with an imagination. I was poor.